


Shift

by err4tic



Series: A Leash Called You [3]
Category: SHINee
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst, Band Fic, Bondage, Collars, D/s, Dirty Talk, Egregious use of tenses, Explicit Sexual Content, Face-Sitting, Fingering, M/M, Masturbation, Oral Sex, PWP, Sex Toys, Switching, mild dubcon, more porn than angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-05
Updated: 2020-11-05
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:01:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,394
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27398422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/err4tic/pseuds/err4tic
Summary: Every single one of their encounters has always been intense—God, even the word feels inadequate.This is on a whole other level for them both.
Relationships: Kim Kibum | Key/Lee Taemin
Series: A Leash Called You [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1980596
Comments: 8
Kudos: 35
Collections: Kinktober Bingo 2020





	Shift

**Author's Note:**

> Fourth SHINee Kinktober Bingo entry  
> Kink fills: Dirty talk, ass worship, face sitting, collars, masturbation 
> 
> Writer's notes:  
> (1) This is not really a nice story. 
> 
> (2) **IMPORTANT:** This includes some real life elements, but please remember that this is **fiction.**
> 
> (3) This is the final installment of a three-part series. I guess this can be read as a standalone, but a large chunk of the context will be lost if the previous two are skipped.
> 
> Part 1 here: [A leash called you.](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26946043)
> 
> Part 2 here: [The selfish wishes your mouth can't say.](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27134411)
> 
> Please enjoy. :)

Kibum stares down at the SMTown mug that has just sailed past his head and now lies in pieces on the floor after shattering on the wall of the meeting room behind him. Thank goodness for soundproofing and the fact that Jinki has stepped out for a huddle with one of the CEOs. 

He turns back to face Lee Taemin, who is looking uncharacteristically angry and decidedly far from his typical adorable, cherubic self. He is touted to be one of the more cheerful, easygoing idols in SM Entertainment, not to mention one of the most polite.  
  
“That was not polite, Taemin-ah.” he says in a quiet voice.

Frustrated, Taemin drags an agitated hand through his black hair. "I don't get it, hyung. Why are you siding with them? This is our career we're talking about here! SHINee!"

Over the years, Taemin has matured into an incredible young man with a mind of his own. In some ways, however, he remains as idealistic in his opinions as a child.

"I'm telling you, now is not the time." Kibum tries to keep his voice down but does not succeed entirely. The Lee Taemin who invariably goes with whatever Kibum says is no longer. Kibum feels a sense of pride in that, but not right now, when the frustration he feels matches that in the other man's eyes. Can't he understand that he's thinking of their group?

"I've done everything that they wanted me to, hyung. When will it ever be our time?" Kibum stoops down to pick up the larger fragments of the mug, grasping at the opportunity to avert his eyes from the naked despair on Taemin's face. 

"Soon, Taemin. You've been doing so well with your album preparations, and every one's eagerly awaiting your stage. Then with SHINee...you know they have plans for us, and Choi _will_ be hitting the ground running. Besides, I have submitted several proposals for increased exposure for SHINee, and it looks like the management is seriously considering them. We've all discussed this."

"I hate how logical you're being about this."

Kibum flinches, grateful that his crouch hides his face from the other man. Then, "Somebody has to be," he says in a steely tone.

"Fuck logic," Taemin hisses out venomously, slamming his palms on the table. "Dammit, Kibum-hyung, can't you support me, just this once?"

Kibum, who is in the act of dumping the fragments into the nearest trash bin, turns around and levels Taemin with a hard stare. 

The other man meets his glare, and then his eyes slide away guiltily. He slumps back into his chair like a marionette whose strings are cut.

Kibum stares for a moment and then lets a resigned sigh loose. Taemin will not listen to him at this point. He has tried to cover all of the bases to pacify him earlier, but look where that has almost landed him—in an ER somewhere with a concussion. 

He understands Taemin—he really does. But sometimes, Kibum has to make choices that put him squarely on the other side of the fence.

"I've done what I can to try to reassure you, Taemin, but I don't think that's what you need right now." _I don't think_ ** _I'm_** _what you need right now._

Taemin says nothing. 

"Yeonggam will be back soon. I need to go to the toilet." He grabs his Dior saddle bag and steps out of the room. He never comes back. 

***

"Shouldn't you get that, Kibummie-hyung?"

Kibum glances at the screen, rejects the call, and smiles at the guy seated across him. 

Ahn Jongsuk. He was in the same unit as him and Changsub. The young man is tall, slim, good-looking with a sweet face and lush lips, and so, so eager to please. They had fooled around a handful of times in the months preceding his discharge, and they parted amicably before Kibum went on his final leave and never returned to the base. It was not serious enough for Kibum to add him to his private SNS accounts. 

Changsub, who has always been more chummy with the guy, has told him that afternoon that he and several others from their unit have been discharged a few days prior and are getting together for dinner that evening. 

Kibum, who is still feeling antsy from that unresolved issue he had walked out on in the company, is dying for a change of scenery. He says yes to the invitation. 

He decidedly ignores the buzz of his iPhone and tries to focus his attention on his army mates, trading raucous anecdotes of shenanigans and memories and laughing at the others' stories about new misadventures over grilled meat and bottles of soju, cider, and beer. It is difficult. 

Kibum chews on a lone lettuce leaf, lost in thought. Jinki has been calling him all afternoon since he disappeared from the meeting room. He will text Jinki later and call him in the morning to explain to his leader, but he knows that Jinki understands his need for space—he always has.

Taemin hasn't even sent a KaTalk. 

For now, he welcomes this break from thinking heavier thoughts, courtesy of his military buddies. 

And then, of course, there are those covert but unmistakably seductive come-hither looks from Ahn Jongsuk-sshi thrown his way. He contemplates whether he will take the man up on his offer—after all, an hour or so making out (or maybe more—they had never really progressed beyond that frantic handjob that one time) with a good-looking man while parked somewhere along Hangang might be a pleasant distraction. 

As soon as the thought occurs to him, his mind rejects it. He recalls how pleasant those (risky) interludes with the man were, how good a kisser he was… 

Most of all, he remembers the reason why he chose the man in the first place—

The man has a square philtrum. 

_God, I'm hopeless._ Kibum darkly chuckles, so quietly that no one but he can hear the self-mockery underneath. 

A shot of soju appears in his line of sight, and Jongsuk says, "You haven't had any in the last hour, Kibummie-hyung."

He flashes the other man a sheepish smile and downs the shot. A cheer erupts around the table, and the younger guys start fighting against each other for the honor of pouring Kibum's next shot. His dimples flash as he smiles dotingly at their horseplay. 

_Fuck it, might as well get drunk._

He picks up his phone and is about to take a selca with his companions when it vibrates in his hand. 

The text message preview does not even cut the message. 

> **LTM: I need you.**

His thumb hovers over the screen. Trying to calm the sudden pounding of his heart, he takes his time with the reply.

> **KKB: I'm out with friends.**

Taemin has no such compulsion. The phone vibrates again mere seconds after he sends his answer.

> **LTM: I'll wait.**

He thinks of saying no. After all, it is still early, and the guys are already planning a second round. Besides, he is somewhere across the river, so it will take him a while. Also, he reeks of grilled meat, and he's starting to feel the effects of the alcohol. 

_All these excuses, Kibum._

> **KKB: It will be really late before I get back.**

Message alert.

> **LTM: I'll wait.**

Another shot is poured for him, and he absently reaches out for it when another hand swoops in to take it. He looks at the man beside him to find Changsub staring back with a question in his eyes as he knocks back the shot.

"Band?" the man says in a low tone.

"Yeah, Taemin," he whispers back. The understanding that dawns instantly on the other man's face is hard to bear. 

Changsub is unaware of his ongoing arrangement with Taemin, but he, too, knows why Kibum went for Ahn Jongsuk.

"Go if you need to. I'll take care of things around here," the other man whispers, gesturing toward the other three.

Kibum smiles his thanks and stands up to settle the bill on the pretext of going to the toilet. 

***

Kibum thinks of what he should say to Taemin during the 30-minute cab ride across the river to his apartment. He takes a speedy cold shower to shake off what little remains of the soju buzz and changes into a dark blue knit jumper and his favorite Loewe jeans. He realizes as he slips on a taupe duster coat and a black face mask as he steps out of his door that he really isn't looking forward to that five-minute walk westward to Taemin's apartment—not exactly the walk...the getting there is the nerve-racking part. 

Then, as he crosses the short distance between Taemin's apartment and his, he thinks of how he does not want to play right now, not after their tense argument this afternoon. It was immature to leave before everything got resolved, but despite being the fixer-upper of the group for the better part of 13 years, he suddenly found himself at a loss on how to solve this particular problem—Taemin's lack of security. After all of these years. He understands why, but he doesn't know how to make it better for him. He's not even sure if he's in the position to do so.

It would have been easier if Taemin were his… he wouldn't have to second-guess himself whenever he says or does something nice for the guy and overthink how the said guy would take it. It's tricky, keeping distance from someone he's spent half his life with as a matter of self-preservation, yet jumping at the first opening to get closer because why, he trusts the self-control that made him survive the self-imposed distance in the first place? What a joke. 

Yeah, he's been fooling himself for quite some time now. 

He keys in Taemin's passcode and lets himself into the dark apartment illuminated only by the sensor-activated light above the door. He toes off his ratty Stan Smiths by the door and steps out of the sensor's range, and the living room is plunged into darkness once more. Taemin is nowhere in sight. 

He almost turns around to show himself out when his phone alerts him to a new message. 

> **LTM: In here.**

Kibum hangs his coat at the back of Taemin's sofa and pads softly toward that thin slit of light shining through that gap under the bedroom door. He takes in a deep, calming breath before pushing the door open.

His eyes almost pop out of his head as he takes in what is waiting for him behind the closed door. 

It's out of character for Taemin to look so… servile. Tamed. He is on his knees in the middle of the dimly lit bedroom, hands resting on his upper thighs and face and eyes cast down. He is naked but for a thick band of plain black leather sitting just below his Adam's apple, the large key pendant nestled lovingly between his collarbones. 

_Huh_ , he thinks hysterically as his mind absently registers how his blood flows nowhere it's supposed to be, _I've been wondering where that went._ He hasn't seen that collar since Chile.

He has no other lucid thought in his head—once again, he is stunned speechless by how utterly beautiful Taemin looks that his knees nearly buckle.

A heartbeat stretches interminably without either of them speaking. 

Incongruously, he thinks of that dinosaur from The Land Before Time as he stares down at a rather extensive collection of paraphernalia lying haphazardly on the carpet around him. Kibum abstractly wonders about the logistics of getting all of the items here without anyone knowing. 

He takes a deep breath to steady himself. _You're an actor, Kibum._

"Eyes on me." He is proud to hear no tremor in his voice. 

Taemin closes his eyes for a brief moment, and then his eyes flash up to meet his. Kibum tries his best to keep a straight face and not to recoil from intensity in their depths. 

"What do you want, Taemin-ah?" 

"Everything."

_What?_

"I want you to tie me up, touch me everywhere. Edge me using all of these, and then fuck me." His eyes shake, and his voice holds the slightest quiver, but he does not look away. "I want you to test how far I can go."

He adds "Please" as an afterthought. The brat. 

There goes the pretense that he is the one calling any shots in this non-relationship.

In all of their plays, Kibum has never allowed himself to touch Taemin more than necessary—just enough to get him off. He never lets his hands and his mouth roam because of the distance he's supposed to be keeping between himself and the other man.  
  
This…this is too much to ask. 

He pastes on a sardonic smile and replies in a cool voice, "Thank you for telling me, Taemin-ssi. You do know, however, that that doesn't guarantee that you'll get to have all that."

"I want you to do it all, hyung. Or this ends tonight."

Kibum freezes in the middle of picking up a black riding crop from the floor. 

Taemin's still mad. 

"You're still mad."

Taemin shakes his head resolutely. "I've been thinking about this for a while now." 

_Why?_ For the first time in a long time, Taemin is a closed book to Kibum. 

"Give it all you've got, hyung. Don't hold back. I won't break."

Dear God, he will do it—only because he asks. 

"Have you eaten?" It is a rule he expressly told Taemin the first time, and he always checks.

"Yes. I had fried chicken delivered earlier."

Kibum picks up a telescopic spreader bar.

"Did you get some sleep before I got here?" he asks casually.

Taemin shakes his head. "I don't need it."

He glances at his rectangular Cartier watch as he starts to remove it. It's a quarter past nine on a Friday night… still too early. 

"You'll regret it."

"Make me, hyung." 

Challenge accepted. 

"What happens when you cry uncle before I use everything." He still does not look at Taemin, choosing instead to do an inventory of the items on the carpet. 

"It's your call. I won't, though."

Taemin seems to be confident that he will win, which means he expects Kibum to lose. What’s the point, then? “Same terms. This ends tonight.”  
  
***

He walks around Taemin to sit on the red single-seater right by the bottom corner of the modern four-poster that dominates the room. 

"Face me." The younger man maneuvers himself on his knees and kneels a few feet away from Kibum. 

"Closer. Don't get up. Stop."

Taemin is an arm's length away. He is even more breathtaking up close, but then, Kibum has always known that. 

Kibum touches Taemin's erection with the tip of the spreader bar. "You're hard. Since when?"

"Since I texted you." It's been an hour and a half, give or take a few minutes.

He delicately dangles one cuff over the tip, and a smear of liquid wets the black leather. "And you didn't touch yourself?"

"No." 

"Do it then. Show me how you touch yourself when I'm not here." 

Taemin's whimpered "Hyung!" goes straight to his cock. In truth, Taemin isn't the one Kibum is torturing. "Now."

Taemin brings a hand up to encircle a pert nipple while his other hand reaches for the bottle of lube among the scattered items around him. Without pausing the motions of his other hand, he single-handedly pumps a squirt onto his palm and spreads it on the broad head of his cock before snapping his hips to fuck up fast and hard into his fist. 

Kibum’s fingers dig into denim. Unthinkingly, he says, “Show me how you do it when you think of me.” And could have kicked himself as soon as the words are out of his mouth.

 _You’re probably still drunk, Kim Kibum—you want all of this to end this soon?_ Really, does he expect Taemin to masturbate to the thought of him?

To his astonishment, Taemin breathes out, “Oh, fuck…” before plunging the two fingers that are busily plucking at his chest into his mouth. Then, he sprawls ass on the floor, legs splayed out in a magnificently obscene display. His fingers trail down his body to gather some of the precum that has begun to copiously ooze from his tip and sink into his unprepared hole. In the next second, his body crashes backwards and his hips lift off the floor as ropes of white arcs into the air.  
  
Kibum nearly joins him. 

He closes his eyes against the sight of Taemin collapsed in a spread eagle on the floor, chest heaving as he catches his breath. 

“Enjoying yourself?” Kibum asks in a kind voice after a while. 

“Yes,” Taemin replies, out of breath, pushing up on his elbows before proactively rearranging himself into his former kneeling position. 

“I’m glad.” A pause. “I didn’t tell you to cum, though.”

“Fuck!”

“Language, Lee Taemin, or I’ll have to gag you.”

Taemin stares into his eyes.  
  
“Fuck.”

***

Kibum gags Taemin with a ball gag that’s conveniently part of his stash just to make a point, but removes it almost immediately for fear of Taemin choking or not breathing properly—besides, they haven't quite discussed their signs when Taemin's speaking is temporarily impaired. Then, he proceeds to test the items out with Taemin—nothing too heavy for Taemin to deal with and only for a few minutes at a time. They both find out that Taemin is not big on being hit with the riding crop on his buttocks but loves it when Kibum licks and heaps reverent words of praise against the reddened skin after. He delightedly witnesses how Taemin swears lifelong fealty to that fabulously expensive prostate massager from that particular Swedish brand.

Through it all, Taemin never backs down. Kibum sharply observes Taemin for any sign of excessive discomfort and finds only a natural curiosity coupled with unbridled enthusiasm. Any hint of dissatisfaction or repugnance does not appear on Taemin’s face, or maybe they are gone before Kibum can catch them.

To his satisfaction, he is down to only a few items, and they're not really as hardcore as some that Kibum has encountered in the past. More importantly, Taemin's enthusiasm is showing no signs of flagging even after a few orgasms, but nothing as intense as the man's self-given orgasm earlier or any of the climaxes he has given him during their previous plays. His child-like wonder—which seems out of place considering the decidedly adult nature of what they are doing—is just adorable, and Kibum is delighted to humor him. 

Taemin's bedtime table has beeped a few minutes before, heralding midnight, and Kibum only has a handful of items to run through. Using them all will be easy because they are all on the tame side compared to some of the stuff Kibum has seen or used in the past.

All in all, Kibum is making good time. 

"You’re stalling, hyung," Taemin comments languidly around a piece of chocolate Kibum has slipped between his lips. 

Kibum’s fingers pause for a split second in the middle of winding a length of red cotton rope around his clipped shins and thighs—they’ve both decided not to tie Taemin’s torso because the marks are too visible to coordi-noonas and makeup artists (there was one instance when an additional pictorial for his album was scheduled too closely to one of their plays—thank goodness the slight bruise remaining was hidden by Taemin's clothes).

He thinks of doing a karada tie on Taemin… he has no doubt that Taemin will enjoy it, considering how particularly lax and malleable he becomes when he gets bound. For his part, he enjoys the meditative nature of the practice and does, in fact, have a mannequin at home expressly for that purpose. But there is nothing quite like weaving in and out of someone who responds to the slightest tap of your hand. 

Staring at the pendant of the collar, he vows that he will share that experience with Taemin. He can't end this now.

"I'm not. I'm tying you up, aren't I?" he throws back, starting on the other leg. He does not look at Taemin's cock lying soft and wet against his lower abdomen, focusing instead on the phoenix tattoo on his hip. As his fingers deftly twine the ropes around Taemin's limb, he wonders absently whether he has had it done before or after that visit to that BDSM den.

"Are you going to fuck me?" Kibum pulls at a cinch a bit too tightly that Taemin winces. He immediately loosens up the loop. 

"Do you want me to?" he asks quietly.

"God, please. So much." The want in his voice is unmistakable.

If somebody were to tell Kibum that he would one day find himself reluctant to fuck Lee Taemin… well. He wouldn't know how to respond to that, really. 

He's been handling Taemin in increasingly lewd ways in the past few weeks, but he remains anxious at the thought of what would happen if he gives in to the lure of intimacy under the circumstances.

Kibum decides to free his wrists from the spreader bar and instead restrain him in a double column tie. He uncuffs Taemin, massages his wrists and promptly picks up the other length of rope to tie his wrists together. He then pushes Taemin from the center of the bed up closer to the headboard. After a moment's hesitation, he climbs onto the bed and rearranges Taemin to the correct angle on the bed. He stoops down and picks up Taemin's bound wrists, only to realize that he has to be lower to secure them to the bedpost. He carefully sinks down with his knees on either side of Taemin's chest and loops the remaining length of rope securely around the bedpost. 

"Fuck, hyung, you're hard." Taemin breathes out as Kibum hovers over him.

And he has just been thinking how he has managed to will his raging boner down in the zen-like state caused by the hypnotic, contemplative repetitions of trussing Taemin up. Kibum fights his initial reflex of looking and moving away and looks down to see Taemin licking his full, lush lips as he hungrily looks at the tent in his pants. 

His erection fucking _twitches_ , and Taemin's eyes fly up to his, dazed and delighted. 

"Fuck, hyung, you can do me anywhere. My mouth or my ass… just...your cock in me. Please fuck me." He is starting to slur his words mid-sentence, and his ragged breaths pass in and out of his wide open mouth. 

_Fuck._

"Shut up, Taemin-ah," he spits out as he moves further up Taemin's body and presses his clothed erection to his mouth. 

Taemin's long moan vibrates against the denim, and the pleasure has him going cross-eyed. He thrusts against his open mouth a few times before—

"Wait," he says, pulling away. Taemin's head strains to follow him. 

"Hyung!" he whines.

Never has he removed his clothing that fast, nor with such utter disregard for where the clothes land. Feeling his skin burn where Taemin's stare lands and with his self-consciousness drowned out by lust, he soon comes back to straddle Taemin and feed him his engorged cock. 

Taemin's hum of satisfaction has him clawing at the bedpost for purchase to keep from crushing Taemin underneath him. 

"Fuck, Taemin-ah, your lips are made for sucking cock. So puffy and pretty. A perfect little cockslut." At those words, Taemin sucks him even harder, his eyes closed and his face a picture of serene bliss.  
  
“How many men have you blown for you to be this good with your mouth?“ Kibum growls out, and Taemin mewls deep in his throat, tongue going wild over the expanse of skin it can reach.

"Yes, fuck, suck me harder. You can take me down your throat, yes? Answer me." He pulls his cock completely out, and Taemin looks up at him with unseeing eyes. 

"Yes, God, use my mouth as a cocksleeve, please," Taemin gasps out and, without Kibum asking, stretches out his tongue. 

"Fuck. You're just so hungry for dick, aren't you?" Kibum takes his cock in one hand, shaking with effort as he slaps the precum- and spit-slick head against Taemin's waiting tongue a few times. Finally, he grabs a handful of Taemin's hair and does exactly as he asks. 

He's so close. Kibum would like nothing better than to finish inside Taemin's mouth, but he has other plans. He starts to pull his hips back when Taemin's reddened lips suddenly latch around his shaft. 

Kibum gives an inhuman squeak. "Taemin-ah, wait, I'm almost…" 

One little flick of the man's tongue is his undoing. Kibum clutches at the bedpost and throws back his head in an almost humanly impossible arch as he empties himself into Taemin.

With the last of his strength, he pulls himself out of his arch and out of Taemin's mouth with a flinch. The younger man smiles dreamily up at him and shows him his white-coated tongue. Before Kibum can admonish him to spit it out, the brat just swallows his cum down and grins.

His spent cock jerks with renewed interest.

When it sinks to him that finally, _finally_ , he is allowed, he shuffles down Taemin's body, pausing for a few moments to trace the tip of his tongue around the edges of Taemin's hip tattoo before taking his hard length into his mouth. 

***

Taemin is incoherent with need. 

"Please, fuck me!" and "Oh, God!" plus mindless, random permutations of the words spew out of Taemin's pretty, filthy mouth when Kibum removes the two fingers he's been sucking on to pull out the anal plug the older man has slipped inside him before tying him up. 

"Wait, not yet," Kibum whispers in a comforting voice as he tests whether Taemin has learned from their previous sessions. He edges him over and over, first with his mouth and then with his fist around his erection. Taemin twists every which way, guttural moans escaping his panting mouth. Precum has puddled on his navel. 

Kibum picks up the lube beside him and squirts a liberal amount onto Taemin's cock and then his hole, avidly watching the way his entrance spasms and twitches upon contact with the cold gel. He wants to eat him, but that will have to wait until later. _If there still is a later._

He slides three fingers in, smiling at the way the hole stretches easily to accommodate him thanks to the plug, and resumes the leisurely glide of his palm up and down Taemin's shaft. 

By now, Taemin's head is perpetually thrown back, his back arched in a painful manner that he will surely feel later. 

Before Taemin realizes it, Kibum pulls away, straddles Taemin's squirming hips and takes Taemin's rigid cock into his unprepared hole as he reaches back to slide a dildo into his ass. 

They both cry out. Taemin's head snaps up, his eyes wide with alarm and confused ecstasy. 

Kibum does not move for a few moments, his breathing coming fast and pained as, without prior warning, his walls try to adjust to Taemin's girth. 

"Hyung…" Taemin whispers, his voice somewhat scared.  
  
Kibum knows how it feels. Every single one of their encounters has always been intense—God, even the word feels inadequate. _This_ —this is on a whole other level—probably for Taemin, definitely for him. It feels a little too close to hurling one's self into an abyss, this 'losing one's self' business—one would have to be fucking stupid not to feel terrified. 

Kibum does not lift up from where his body rests against Taemin. Instead, he gyrates his hips over Taemin and starts to plunge the dildo in time with his dance. Kibum throws back his head and closes his eyes, his entire body suddenly forgetting that it's in pain and catching on fire. Small, fucked-out little gasps escape him as his world condenses to where he and Taemin are connected.

Delirious with pleasure, Kibum almost misses it. 

"Hyung… yellow."

When it finally registers, a switch gets triggered in his head. No matter how much or how hard he has pushed him, Taemin's never given up before.

Fuck. He's doing it wrong. 

Kibum unpeels eyelids that feel like they have been cauterized shut and stares down at Taemin in growing horror. Tears, saliva, and snot trickle out of each orifice. 

Still, Kibum has never seen anything more beautiful in his life, and he will die on the hill that says he never will again. Even now, he can't believe that he gets to see Lee Taemin in his finest hour… 

Of course, he has to go and ruin it. 

"God, fuck! I'm so sorry, Taemin-ah—" Like it causes him physical pain to do so—and it does—Kibum urgently lifts away from Taemin's cock when an anguished cry escapes the younger man.

"Don't, please! Don't leave!" he sobs out over and over. 

Fuck. _What have I done?_

Each plea is a six-inch blade that slides between Kibum's ribs and wiggles around to slice his insides into ribbons. In a panic, Kibum repositions himself over Taemin and gasps as he feels himself part around Taemin's cock once again. As he sits there, stewing with the reluctant desire to move yet frozen into immobility of, once again, not knowing what to do to comfort the man under him, he feels Taemin soften and inevitably slip out of him. Fuck kintsugi, Kibum's heart shatters into tens of thousands of irredeemable, irreparable shards as Taemin sobs his heart out and begs in an endless loop. 

"I never said red, hyung, just yellow!"

 _I broke him_. He wants to weep for him and with him, but he quashes the urge. He doesn't deserve that release. 

"Please don't go, Kibum-hyung."

He never says his name during a scene. _Ah_ , Kibum thinks with something akin to grief, _this is where I break, too._

"Hush, baby. I'm here, I'll always be here." He pulls out the dildo from where it is sheathed, all but forgotten, between Taemin's legs, and slips inside him. 

The words are a lie.

Taemin's hiccupy sobs suddenly stop in a strangled gasp. 

"I'm so sorry, Taemin-ah." He hovers over the younger man and swallows Taemin's sounds into his own mouth.

It has been a while since he has kissed Taemin. Years, in fact. Those had only been taken, not given, during slipups in variety shows, accidents, and inebriated dares during parties.

This is different. This is nothing like electricity, fireworks, or warm, pleasant feelings. If Kibum were to explain it, he would say it's like plunging through the fire when one's house is burning around them—going through excruciating pain only to survive. Escaping unscathed is out of the question. 

Kibum's soul nearly tears itself away from his body as Taemin seemingly surfaces from his stupor and desperately sucks his tongue into his mouth and entangles his own with it, making every attempt to pull away from him an exercise in futility despite the fact that Taemin is fully restrained (he's fighting the fire, too). His walls similarly hold him captive, swallowing his cock and clutching him like a fist that doesn't want to let go at every outward pull.

Kibum feels his world erode and reform around Lee Taemin in the span of a few strokes. Overwhelmed, he collapses on top of the cooling mess puddling over the skin of Taemin's torso and buries his face against the band around his throat.

"I'm sorry…I'm sorry..." every repeat of the same phrase breathed against the skin of Taemin's neck is punctuated by a short, sharp thrust so hard that Taemin chokes out punched-out sounds that interfere with his attempts to speak.

"Tell me, Taemin," Kibum grunts as he bites on an earlobe. Taemin starts babbling—incoherent phrases that make perfect sense. 

"Oh, God, fuck… more, hyung, I'm green, oh my God, so green. Need you to—right there— _ah_!" 

Kibum holds Taemin's tethered knees further apart and up and fucks into him harder. With unerring precision, as if he has been doing it all this time, he hits that part inside that has Taemin keening the loudest and banging his head against the mattress, tears trickling down either side of his face at the painful rapture of his ruin. The throb of his own heartbeat in his ears competes with Taemin’s gasps and moans and yelps and whispered “Hyung!”s, eventually fading as static to the rushing in Kibum's ears as he continues to make amends, no longer with words but with every plunge of his flesh into Taemin's body.

He takes one hand resting on Taemin’s knee and wrap his fingers around Taemin’s (thankfully) hard cock, lifting his head up and sealing his mouth over the puffy lips under his to muffle the sounds coming out of Taemin’s mouth—and, most of all, the words threatening escape his. 

"Please come for me, Taemin-ah," he whispers brokenly into his ear. He's hanging on by a mere cobweb.  
  
Like the imperfectly perfect sub that he is, Taemin does. 

***

By now, Kibum goes through the motions by rote—untying the knots around Taemin, inspecting him for bruises and tears, massaging feeling back to immobilized limbs, wiping him down with damp towels, putting the room in order, and supplying Taemin and himself with isotonic drinks for hydration. As a departure from the usual, however, Kibum does this routine naked, his still unsatisfied cock in full display and swinging uncomfortably between his legs. With the way he has lost control of the situation, he neither deserves release nor the dignity of clothing as he serves Taemin. 

He burns with embarrassment as he feels Taemin's unwavering regard focused on his person, but he takes it as his due and mindlessly keeps on moving. He can just say it's the alcohol that is no longer in his body, in case Taemin asks about the hectic color on his face. 

Finally, he scoops his clothes up from the floor, turning away to retreat to the relative safety of Taemin's bathroom.

"Hyung. I'm cold."

He pauses, at a loss. Kibum pretends for a moment that he still has this under control. "Tell me what you need, Taemin-ah."

"Please… Please warm me up, hyung." Underneath the exhaustion in that soft voice, there is defiance, a demand despite the “please"—underneath, something tentative and lonely born out of fear of rejection. Kibum hates how he is the one to put it there in the first place. 

That ruthless hold he has placed upon himself to deny the unspoken plea in Taemin's eyes whenever a session ends is in shreds. Kibum drops the bundle in his arms and slips behind the lithely muscular yet oddly small form underneath the covers. Handles Taemin like he's made of the most fragile of glass and draws him against his bare front. Taemin turns over to face him and burrows close, his nose perfectly resting where neck meets shoulder. With a sigh, the jagged corners of Taemin unthinkingly settle against his own. 

They are quiet for a while, soaking in each other’s warmth. Kibum’s thoughts, not so much.

Kibum has started to think that the man in his arms has fallen asleep when Taemin suddenly speaks against his skin. "You're so good to me, too, hyung. Thank you." 

Suddenly, everything is too much. Kibum's eyes burn, and a band tightens around his chest. He inwardly curses that sensation of sulfur streaking up behind his nose. He rolls away awkwardly and sits up to leave. _Bathroom_ , he desperately thinks, _you can let go_. 

"No…I'm not...I can't… I'm so sorry, Taemin-ah, I can't do this anymore." Taemin deserves someone with full knowledge of how to handle him, not a poser who thinks he can dominate anyone just because he has been on the receiving end before and just because he has finished a course and his sensei has praised his ropework once or twice. It is highly irresponsible and foolish for him to offer in the first place all those weeks ago, thinking that he knows what Taemin needs, and he has let his selfishness and jealousy overrule his logic. 

The thought of never seeing Taemin like this kills him, but he would rather die than place Taemin in danger.

And that very real risk of damaging Taemin beyond repair has dawned on him just now. 

"You don't have to do this, hyung." 

_Ah, there it is_ —the one goodbye that throws them back to that limbo of a non-family relationship with heavy, lifelong bonds and blurred boundaries. At least that's a lot less confusing—not to mention a hell of a lot less painful—than whatever this is. 

"I don't really need any of this, hyung. Just you." 

Kibum freezes and stares at Taemin, uncomprehending. 

Taemin follows him up and sits with his face a mere foot away from Kibum, whose mind processes the distance like his body is unconsciously keeping tabs of exactly how many millimeters of air separate their skin. Carefully, Taemin reaches for a hand clutching the covers and prises the clenched fist open with tender insistence. 

Kibum, with his usual defenselessness where the younger man is concerned, allows his fingers to unclench. Allows himself to breathe out some of the inescapable tension that has his body in its clutches—just a little.   
  
He doesn't allow himself to hope.

"I don't understand," he mumbles, not sure where to look. His head snaps up as Taemin cradles his hand against his cheek—wet eyes feral and uncertain as they bore into his and so, so brave—and Kibum lives through another kind of heartbreak.

Then, ever so slowly, those luminous eyes draw closed as he turns his head and presses the softest of kisses to the center of Kibum's palm. 

"You did well, Kibum-hyung," he says in a low, fierce voice. _An end._

"From now on, I'll be in your care." _A beginning._

"Stay."

To the desperate sinner, it sounds a lot like absolution. 

Kibum bows his head, closes his eyes on a shuddering exhale, and finally lets his tears fall. 

끝

**Author's Note:**

> This is one of the most difficult fics I've ever had to write so far. It was originally slated for 2k words, around the same length as the other two, but well *gestures vaguely. I'd like to thank the people who helped me finish this. 
> 
> (1) Hanna ([@HanNaCLK](https://twitter.com/HanNaCLK)/[hanabiPC](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HanabiPC/pseuds/HanabiPC)), my TaeKey writer senpai and friend, for being so supportive and always having kind words to spare for my work. I probably wouldn't have stuck this long writing for such a rarepair if not for you. 
> 
> (2) Liz ([@cookieming99](https://twitter.com/cookiemiing99)/[on AO3](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cookieming99/pseuds/cookieming99%22)), for letting me bounce off ideas and porn resources with her. Hahaha! 
> 
> (3) That master on Twitter. I ain't gonna tell. XD
> 
> (4) The entire roster of MDZS/CQL authors for always being so kinky/hornee on main. XD
> 
> (5) The people who has left likes and comments... you have no idea how grateful I am to all of you. Thank you.
> 
> Say hi to me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/beautifulweird0)! I post and repost mainly about SHINee and The Untamed/CQL/MDZS, with liberal splashes of SM folks and other danmei stuff. :D


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